


Are You Mad?

by RuthlessBallard



Category: Mrs. America (2020)
Genre: F/F, Unrequited Love, gay Alice trying to not gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuthlessBallard/pseuds/RuthlessBallard
Summary: A moment of thought as Alice is posed an honest question from a dear friend.
Relationships: Alice Macray/Phyllis Schlafly
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Are You Mad?

“Are you angry with me?” She asked

Alice took in a breath; the battle inside her, as always, raged on. Mad didn’t seem to fit the emotion that wiggled its way into her brain and caused a pang in her chest when the harshest side of Phyllis would show. She looked on at the woman before her. Rarely would the leader of The Eagle Forum allow herself to be seen in such an unkempt state.

Blonde wisps of hair, wild and astray, framing a striking face. A sweat-stained nightgown draped over a toned physique Alice knew was slaved to be kept maintained, at times to unhealthy levels. Yet even in her unkempt state, even with the vulnerable undertone in her question, Phyllis still held her power. 

It was in her stare. It was the stare that always got to Alice. Piercing blue always daring her to move, daring her to stay, daring her to fail. 

At the moment, those eyes dared her to come against a power that was building way past the hushed discussions behind the gloss of a magazine and under the whir of a hairdryer. Alice wasn’t mad. Not at Phyllis. In fact, she loved her. She loved her in every season.

She loved the way she stood out in every crowd.

She loved the way she would have to pause more for breath as she was building to a point in her speeches. It was there her passion showed the most.

She loved the way her long fingers would slide pins into her hair, making a golden crown upon her head.

She loved the way it felt walking beside her into a debate or a simple luncheon; when Alice walked next to Phyllis, she felt powerful.

She loved the determined look she would have whether she was working on a bill proposal or peeling potatoes. 

She loved the way she could make the world stop with just a smile.

She loved the agonizing but dreamlike way Mrs. Schlafly could penetrate her dreams, her passing thoughts, her most private and inappropriate longings in the dark of the night.

“No,” Alice replies, not in a white lie to spare a friend’s feelings. ‘No’ was the truth. Alice wasn’t angry at Phillis. She was grieving for her. Alice was grieving the loss of the friend she thought she knew, the woman she thought she adored, the unrequited love she thought she’d long for forever. That woman was long gone, and to the sound of the whir of a tape deck, a quiet love died.

No, she wasn’t angry. Just sad.


End file.
